


Creed

by ancient_moonshine



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Blindness, Disabled Character, Exorcism, M/M, Possession, Violence, torture aftermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 18:07:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10599363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancient_moonshine/pseuds/ancient_moonshine
Summary: Father Armitage Hux, and his guardian demon.





	

**Author's Note:**

> VERY heavily inspired by Supernatural, I liberally stole chunks of Dean's S4 storyline for this. It's a slice of a bigger, longer fic I've been wrestling with for months now. Hux in this AU is blind: partly to practice writing diverse characters, and in the main fic (which is primarily Hux pov) as an exercise to stop relying on purple prose visual descriptions. The demon possession will be explained in greater detail in the main fic: suffice it to say here it's consensual on Ben's part, I will refrain from saying more bc spoilers. 
> 
> I don't want to pressure anybody into commenting, but I've been beating my brains bloody for the main fic for a few months, so any feedback on this would be helpful in FINALLY cementing the direction it should go. T.T

This time Hux is so drained that after it’s all over, his legs just give out, and he doesn’t even protest when Kylo catches him and gathers him up in his arms. He sees Luke rise from where he was tending to the other unconscious person in the room – the possessed boy - but Poe stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

Hux doesn’t react to anything. Not to Kylo touching him, or the others seeing. His  shoulder-length hair tickles Kylo’s collar, and his eyes are half-lidded. Kylo can feel Hux’s lashes brushing his skin every time he wills himself awake when his eyes slip closed. When Kylo’s thumb brushes their delicate edges, they stay shut, Hux’s mind easing quietly into sleep as Kylo carries him to his quarters. Neither Poe nor Luke make a move to stop him.

Dark bruises are beginning to rise on Hux’s face, and there are scratches around his eyelids where the afflicted had tried to take out his eyes. It’s not too bad, nothing a good cold compress can handle. But Kylo feels a tightness in his chest, something angry and hungry in turns. Ben Solo’s furious, _human_ desperation layered over by his own possessive rage.

The only thing that had stopped Kylo from killing his fellow demon - and the boy it was possessing - had been Hux’s sharp “ _Stop.”_

He wakes Hux when they get to his rooms. Nudging gently at his mind, taking care not to startle him, but Hux still jerks awake with a sharp inhale, eyes fluttering open and staring blankly around him. Kylo presses a kiss against his temple. That was all Ben, all longing and quiet comfort.

“It’s me.” He says quietly. He doesn’t say _you’re safe_ like Ben wants him to. Hux lets out a trembling sigh. Leans his forehead against the column of Kylo’s throat, making him stiffen slightly. More proof of how much Hux had changed.

Or rather, how much hell had changed Hux.  

“What are you waiting for?” He asks exhaustion-slurred syllables running together. “You don’t need my keys.”  The puffs of Hux’s breath are warm. He’s already mostly asleep again by the time Kylo carries him inside his sparse living quarters.

There really isn’t much here. Just a carefully-made bed, a closet, and a night-table. He used to have more, Kylo remembers with an odd twist of guilt, low in his belly. Hux’s old apartment used to be lined with books, precious ones because of how difficult they were to obtain. It used to be warm with sunshine, with the scent of lilacs from his landlady’s garden wafting in. Hux had always been an ascetic, but he’d loved having the comfort of his own place, his own independence, more than he liked to admit.

Now all his books had been given away, along with his old vestments, his sparse collection of personal effects, even his little cat. The room Luke had given him in the old monastery is bone-bare, even after six months. On top of the night-table is a first-aid kit and the only book in the room is a Bible, open to the book of Job. Kylo supresses a snort when he sees it, but as he deposits Hux on top of the bed, he reaches out with one hand, runs the pads of his fingers over the raised dots. His brow is furrowed. As Kylo watches, his hand falls away from the page, and he sighs.

_You won’t get any guidance from there,_ Kylo thinks but does not say. _Not with whatever this is between us._

He’s still wearing his surplice, and the white fabric is spotted with blood from the deeper scratches in his face.  His expression is empty, lips thin and expression distant. Kylo takes it as his cue to leave, turns away. But the hand closing around his jacket sleeve stops him.

“Stay.” Hux never asks things of him. He always commands, always expects the utmost obedience. His grip is tight, white-knuckled: Ben’s skin caught beneath the leather, it would hurt if Kylo wasn’t used to far worse. Kylo should snarl, should put Hux in his place. _You do not own me, you fool, you child –_

But the boy – _Ben,_ it’s always Ben, the boy and his damned heart defying him every chance he gets– gently loosens Hux’s grip from his arm, brings his hand to his lips. Kissing the knuckles, stroking the lines on his palm. Slowly, slowly, they uncurl, tension flooding out of the young priest’s limbs. With his other hand, Kylo trails careful fingers through his too-long hair.

The possessed boy had grabbed Hux by the hair earlier. More animal than child as it raked its nails down Hux’s face, trying to throttle him so he wouldn’t be able to finish the ritual. Before Kylo knew what the fuck had happened next, he’d broken through the sigil the priests had laid out to keep hostile forces out, crouching protectively over Hux’s prone form while Luke finished the rites, the other demon lying slumped against the opposite wall, blood trickling from its host’s temple.

Hux’s fingers are cold and slender and pale as they curl around Kylo’s. His hair is a river of fire against the unhealthy pallor of his skin, his half-open eyes turned to the vicinity of where Kylo is. He tugs his hand back and Kylo draws back, taking it as a dismissal. But to his surprise Hux scoots over to the side of his bed. Tugging at Kylo, so that the both of them are lying down.

Hux says nothing, but Kylo hears his unspoken command anyway. It’s awkward but he manages to slip the surplice off over Hux’s head, tossing it to the floor. The white collar comes off next, revealing a strip of skin that’s almost as pale were it not for the bruises beginning to form.

Kylo ghosts a finger over the skin of Hux’s throat, careful not to hurt him. The skin’s raw with abrasions in some areas, but not enough to bleed. The sight makes his stomach churn, which is ridiculous, because he’s seen worse, has done worse. But something about the sight of Hux wounded, hurt – it’s unbearable. Even if Snoke isn’t the one to do it. Even after Kylo had torn hell apart getting Hux out.

_What’s going to happen to us?_ Kylo wonders. _What more will we destroy for each other?_

As if he can hear his thoughts, Hux wraps his arms around Kylo’s  waist. Only when they’re sufficiently entwined together does Hux heave a quiet sigh, closing his eyes. His cheek pressed against the center of Kylo’s chest where Ben’s heart still beats, while Kylo tangles his hands in Hux’s hair and listens to him breathe.


End file.
